Chihar sits down near the edge. “We wait,” he says in a calm, resigned voice.
Lolu glares at him. “Wait for what?”
“Let’s assume the hot water goes through a cycle.” Chihar digs in his bag for a thermometer gadget. He quickly lowers it into the liquid and checks the reading. “I am going to test the heat level for the next ten minutes. My hypothesis is that it will change. If not, then yes, I will concede that—as you say—we are screwed.”
Since we don’t have other options, we wait—and so do the other Contenders around us, spread out sparsely all around the land ring. Other teams seem to have the same idea as we do, inserting gadgets into the water, and giving the rest of us distant cautious stares.
Chihar periodically tests the water and he is able to confirm that indeed the temperature changes in a cycle that spans about twenty minutes.
“At its coldest, the water is at the comfortable temperature of a dwelling interior,” Chihar says, forty minutes and two cycles later. “It starts to heat up after one minute, and reaches boiling point in ten minutes. Then it cools down for ten minutes until it reaches the lowest temperature and begins the cycle again.”
“Fine,” Tuar says. “How much swimming time does that give us?”
Chihar thinks. “Each cycle has about three minutes of comfortable temperature. So if we start three minutes before the lowest cooldown point at the tail end of a cycle, we have six minutes of comfortable swimming. Add another two minutes, one before and one after, and it’s no longer comfortable but still safe.”
“All right, whatever, science dude,” Brie says. “Just time it and let us know when it’s okay to get in the kiddie pool.”
Chihar turns his head slightly, still deep in thought. “What is—kiddie pool?”
Brie rolls her eyes.
“Don’t worry about it, Chihar,” I say. “Just let us know when we need to begin swimming.”
A few minutes later the reading shows the optimal temperature, and we get in the water. We swim in quick strokes toward the next land ring, and the water warms up gradually but never becomes uncomfortable.
As I swim, I glance to my sides and see other distant Contenders spread out in the water at the same time as our team. By the time we each the shore of land ring three, I am glad to be out of there, since it’s starting to feel like an overheated hot tub.
“Well done, everyone,” I say, as we stand dripping on the dull surface. “Now, let’s see what’s next.”
Everyone carefully approaches the edge of the third water ring and observes. Contenders have learned their cautionary lesson after seeing people being boiled alive the previous time. As a result, no one wants to get into this new unknown water. . . .
At least, no one wants to be first.
I squat at the edge where small waves lap gently, and carefully lower my fingers into the liquid.
“Hot or cold?” Lolu asks, standing above me in silhouette against the incandescent white morning sky.
“Neither.” I glance up at her, shielding my eyes from the brightness with one hand. “Normal, I guess, cool like the rest of the ocean.”
“So then what’s wrong with it?” Kateb says, glancing down at the bluish water.
“Let’s wait,” Chihar says again. I see he’s got his temperature gadget ready.
And so for about ten minutes everyone does nothing except to periodically test the water. It doesn’t change temperature, so our next step is to look closely for any hidden danger that might be in the water, maybe far beneath the waves.
Overhead, Hel is a third of the way up the sky in its path toward zenith and its light beats down mercilessly. Already the surface of the land ring is much too warm to the touch.
From somewhere far along the land ring comes the sound of splashing. We turn to watch members of Team Gratu toss objects into the water. Nothing seems to happen.
“How long do we wait?” Zaap grumbles.
“No one says you have to wait,” Lolu tells him with typical annoyance. “Go and jump in. Then tell us how it is.”
“You first, Technician,” the boy replies.
Lolu turns away in disdain.
We wait some more. At this point, even I’m ready to throw away caution and just plunge in.
More splashes come in both directions along the land ring. This time we see several brave Contenders leap into the water and start to swim.
Everyone else including us, observes their progress.
The swimmers continue onward. When the first of them reaches halfway across the expanse, an unexpected low sound of rushing water comes from that location, and suddenly waves come sweeping outward as the water in the middle churns. . . .
In a matter of seconds, the calm ocean in water ring three transforms into a turbulent monster. It spins like a series of giant drains, as multiple whirlpools form, casting wave ripples outward. The ripples reach the shore near our feet, striking violently, beating against the bordering land ring.
Once again we hear screams as the Contenders who’re out there in the middle of the waves get caught in multiple riptides and are pulled down into the roiling whirlpools. Not one of them makes it across to the next shore.
In response, there’s a wild rise of audience noise from the distant exterior land ring where the spectator seating tiers surround the Game Zone. . . .
I watch in silent horror with my hand over my mouth. “No,” I say. “There’s no way I’m going out there.”
“Me neither,” Brie says. “Hell to the no.”
The others look on with grim expressions. As soon as the last person disappears into the whirlpools and no one’s left in the water, the whirlpools slow down and then simply dissipate, sending residual calm wavelets to wash up on our shore. Then the water goes back to normal.
Kokayi shakes his head and rubs his forehead with frustration. “What do we do?”
I have a grim suspicion that during this third Games stage we’re going to be saying “What do we do?” much too often. . . .
“We can voice-key our bags then just fly to the other side while holding them,” Lolu concludes.
I bite my lip. “We could. Problem is, do we want to waste our one of two daily opportunities to do that without knowing what else may be in the next water ring? There could be even worse dangers ahead and we would’ve blown our ‘free pass.’ Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does,” Lolu replies. “But you misunderstand. We can levitate partially above ocean level, so that our feet can still make contact with the water. However, we won’t get sucked down in the whirlpools.”
Impressed by the idea, I raise my eyebrows. “Good point! Let’s do it then!”
And so Team Lark is the first to key our equipment bags and make them hover sufficiently low that our feet are still submerged. Then we simply direct our bags to cross the expanse of the water ring.
Halfway across, when the whirlpools and waterspouts develop, I yell out to my teammates that we need to make sure to keep our feet wet—which means having to descend slightly deeper to where the drains churn. Then, once we drag our feet over that violently disturbed—and mentally disconcerting—area, we sing the voice commands to rise slightly, and continue on our way without disqualifying ourselves.
Brilliant, I think. Three down, seven to go. And then the same ten when we head back. This is not so bad . . . I can do this. We can do this.
Meanwhile, water ring four lies before us—calm, clear bluish water without any apparent danger.
We stand on the land ring and look ahead, wondering what to expect from such a benign-seeming area.
Tuar carefully tests the water with his hand then says to Zaap, “Throw something in as far to the middle as you can, let’s see what happens.”
Zaap is being singled out because he’s taken out a small pouch filled with what appears to be ordinary stone pebbles and has just tossed one into the water to observe. Each pebble is oblong, smooth and rounded, the color of red river clay, and about a qua
rter of an inch in diameter.
“What’s that?” I ask, as Zaap swings his arm and throws a pebble hard into the distance.
Zaap glances at me with a surprised frown. “Kwugu bean. You don’t know?”
“No, sorry,” I say.
“They’re everywhere,” Zaap says. “Animals eat them. People eat them. If there’s anything in that water, it will eat them.”
“Oh, I see.” I smile. “Smart!”
We wait for any reaction from the water. Nothing happens.
“All right, this is not going anywhere,” Brie says, tapping her hands on the surface of the land ring where she sits on the edge.
“Look.” Chihar points tiredly to a group of Contenders nearby who are working on some kind of clever levitation raft using an unrolled net weapon made of closely-knit threads. They attach orichalcum gadgets to the net’s corners. In addition, several items are made to hover in strategic spots underneath the net to keep it skimming the water. It reminds me of the hovering “umbrella” contraption I made during Stage Two in the pyramid, combining my own and Avaneh’s blankets. The moment I think of Avaneh my stomach jolts with pain. . . .
“We should do the same,” Kateb says, and starts going through his equipment.
I open my own bag and look for the various nets and cords that I’ve brought with me.
“It’s a good idea to keep some weapons handy,” Tuar says, watching me and Kateb.
Meanwhile the hovering raft is ready. We watch with interest as two Contenders, a Blue and a Green, step onboard. Their feet sink a little but they remain upright as they keep their balance. They sing the voice commands and the raft starts moving forward, taking them into the water ring—while the rest of their teammates watch and make encouraging hoots and gestures.
They hover-float-skim successfully all the way to the middle, accompanied by hoots and yells. The Green turns around and pumps his fist in the air as their teammates clap.
That’s when a split-second lightning flash strikes from out of nowhere. . . . An electrical current rips with sparks across the water. There’s a fierce hiss and the crackle of electricity, and the bodies of the Green and Blue jerk and twitch as they are electrocuted.
They fall, charred and burning, before there’s even time to cry out. Their raft continues moving forward, carrying their bodies to the next shore.
Back on our land ring, their teammates grow silent. All the rest of us stare in grim despair.
“Okay, this one’s definitely going to be one of my two daily freebies,” Brie says.
We all take the “free pass” and hover well above the water, holding on to our equipment bags, as we make our crossing. As expected, when we pass over the midpoint, electricity is discharged into the water, but we’re safely above it when it happens.
Reaching land ring five, the quarter-point along the diameter of the Game Zone, we take a short break. That’s because the next water ring before us is full of black water.
It is pitch-black, a reservoir filled with midnight ink.
Holy crap. . . .
“What is that stuff?” Brie says, wrinkling her forehead in disgust as she steps to look over the edge at the lapping dark liquid.
Chihar grunts with weary sorrow and comes closer to squat over the black water. He very carefully lowers the tip of one finger into the darkness.
“Ugh, don’t!” Brie yelps, continuing to grimace.
But Chihar ignores her, and examines the finger for residue then brings it up to his nose to sniff. “Nothing obvious,” he says. “Let me test the chemical content.” And he takes out a stick gadget and lowers it in the water.
Brie shudders. “I would’ve lead with that thing first, not a body part, jeez. . . .”
We wait as Chihar does his thing. “This is just water,” he says at last. “Nothing out of the ordinary, some micro-particles of non-toxic organic matter. They don’t reflect light, so it creates the black effect.”
“But what is it?” I say.
Chihar sighs and stands up. “Some form of algae. Organic discharge. Don’t know.”
“So what do we do?” Kokayi asks the same question.
“We wait,” everyone grumbles in unison.
And so we settle down along the edge and watch the other Contenders along the ring attempting various things and testing the black water. No one tries anything interesting, so after a while, with the bright sunlight beating down and the cool ocean wind whipping around us, it becomes easy to sink into a relaxed sleepy state of stupefaction. . . .
Kateb takes out a food ration that he brought with him and chews a small piece. Lolu does the same thing. Zaap yawns and rubs his nose. Chihar continues to look at the water as the wavelets lap at the edge. . . .
“Tha-las-sa! Tha-las-sa!” A sudden chant rises from the Games audience.
We all turn around to see what’s going on, but Team Irtiu is so far away along the land ring that we cannot tell what’s happening.
“What has that blue-haired chazuf done now?” Lolu says, lifting her palm over her eyes as she stares into the distance with frustration.
But Zaap springs up suddenly and steps to the very edge of the water. A small hard splash comes just a few feet away from him . . . and I catch a glimpse of something moving, slick and blue-gray in the nearly opaque water.
The shape rises to the surface then falls away. And the black water is perfectly calm and murky again.
“What was that?” I say.
“It’s a tif-nu-sha!”
“What?”
“A tif-nu-sha is a water sha. It’s a big dangerous sea animal that swims like a fish but is not a fish,” Zaap elaborates. “Don’t know what you call them, but they came with us from Earth in ancient times.”
As I consider what he could be talking about, I catch a glimpse of a grey fin cutting through the dark water very close to shore.
Seeing it, Brie cusses. “It’s a shark.”
Chapter 75
“Okay, Animal Trainer—you tell me,” Brie exclaims, turning to Zaap. “Whose bright idea was it all those thousands of years ago to bring vicious killer sharks from Earth to Atlantis?”
Zaap frowns at her. “Animal Handler, not Trainer,” he corrects her. “And, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. Sharks are useful.”
“Fine—Animal Handler, Trainer, Zookeeper, Monkey Wrestler, whatever!” Brie continues. “Tell me what infernal idiot ancestor of your people was responsible for this hell experience I’m having today? Why am I going to be swimming with sharks instead of dolphins?”
I take a deep breath and hold my head, rubbing my temples with both hands. “Brie . . . you probably shouldn’t speak to him like that. That’s not fair.”
Brie whirls around at me. “Oh yeah? And whose skinny rear will the shark chew first, yours or mine? I’ve had it with this stupid crap! How many more ridiculous things can they stick in that damn water to make us die? Hey, did you bring Earth piranhas too? What about crocodiles? I hear, blood-sucking leeches start out slow, but eventually they get you too, and they’re a real pain in the a—”
“Brie!” I interrupt her in a hard voice. “Enough. We’re all in the same boat right now—or should I say, same floating donut raft in the middle of an Atlantean ocean.”
To my surprise Brie actually listens to me and goes quiet. She exhales loudly and sits down in place, crossing her legs, then slams the surface of the land ring with her fist. I continue to watch her and notice she’s shaking, whether with anger or general adrenaline, I’m not certain. . . .
Meanwhile Zaap stares at her with a stoic expression of disdain. “Those animals you speak about, we have them too. We brought delphit—what you call dolphins—and they are well-loved, our closest brothers in the sea. Who knows, there may be delphit in the water too at some point, though I can’t understand why, they are not dangerous. But yes, we have crocodiles but we call them sebeku.”
“Lovely,” Brie says softly. “Looking forward to the crocodile pit in the ne
xt circle of hell. . . . Cause, yeah, I just realized we’re currently living in Dante’s Inferno.”
“So how do we swim through that shark-filled water?” I ask, changing the subject. “Any ideas? Remember, we have to swim at least five of these water rings according to the rules and we’ve only swum two. . . . ”
“Catch and ride one,” Kokayi says with a high-pitched giggle. “It can be done, isn’t that right, Animal Handler?”
Zaap nods. “Yes. But it’s not easy to catch a tif-nu-sha. Easier to frighten it away. Same for the various land and mountain sha, all dangerous animals—they can be frightened and sometimes tamed.”
“Say what? You have sharks here that live on land?” Brie mutters.
“No. You’re confused or stupid,” Lulu replies. “Your Earth English word ‘shark’ is not the same as our Atlanteo word sha. We say sha to refer to dangerous animals, thought to be creations of the old darkness god. Think of it this way—a shark is a kind of sha, but a sha is many animals including a shark.”
“Okay, enough!” Brie says. “Your yakking kills me slowly. Got it.”
I listen to this with curiosity. “Oh, wait—I know what that is!” I say suddenly. “The Ancient Egyptian god Set’s totem animal was called a ‘sha!’ It’s basically a mythic animal of violence and chaos. If I remember correctly, it was supposed to be able to take various shapes, like a monster, and was similar to the Ancient Greek Typhon—”
“Oh, crap, no, Lark, now you’re yakking too!” Brie shakes her head. “Let’s get back to how to scare off or catch and ride that sha-sha-whatever shark.”
In that moment the chant “Tha-las-sa! Tha-las-sa!” resumes from the distance, louder than ever, as the Games audience screams and applauds.
Simultaneously, the amplified commentator voices can be heard projecting at high volume over the ocean expanse and we finally learn why. Apparently Thalassa just did exactly that—caught and ridden a tif-nu-sha across the black water.
Kateb paces nearby, shaking his head in frustration. “I don’t see how the rest of us can do it. I have little experience as an animal handler—”